


Stay the Night

by Angelwingsl3 (Marie_Fanwriter)



Series: M!Shakarian [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Embedded Images, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, ME3, MEBB 2018, Rarepair, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, m/m - Freeform, sex with feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-01 01:03:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter/pseuds/Angelwingsl3
Summary: Summary:In the middle of a war, time is short. When you're on the front lines, fighting side-by-side with your best friend -time is shorter still. At some point, you have to take a leap of faith.Excerpt:“If- if that wasn’t what you….” Garrus winced at his own words. It wasn’t coming out right. He needed more time to figure out what to say. He took a step back, toward the safety of the elevator. “We can just forget it happened. I should let you go.”





	Stay the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BethAdastra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethAdastra/gifts).



> Art by: [**BethAdastra (AO3)**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethAdastra)
> 
> Beta: [**Some_Writer**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some_Writer)
> 
> Theme Music: [**Thirty Seconds To Mars - Dangerous Night**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yN7N0P2TxHQ)  
>   
>  Artist MasterPost: [**BethAdastra on Tumblr**](http://bethadastra.tumblr.com/post/181891116887/the-mass-effect-reverse-big-bang-is-already-here)

\---

[](http://i.imgur.com/2YsvnSG)

\---

Garrus paced the length of the small hallway outside Shepard’s quarters for what must have been the hundredth time in the past hour. He needed to speak with him. He just didn’t quite know how. Or even what he’d say when he finally had the nerve to ping the door.

Swallowing down the trepidation, he finally stopped, facing away from the door, and let his gaze fall down to the deck. Garrus didn’t need to imagine the well-worn path he was leaving with his bare, taloned feet in the carpet, he could see it. The sigh that left his chest took the proverbial wind out of his sails, and his shoulder sagged. It had to of been a mistake. That was the only explanation.

Earlier, he and Shepard had been in the cargo bay sparring, as was typical for them on the long hauls between missions and in transit. They’d been training partners since the first  _ Normandy  _ and through their mission against the Collectors. It was only natural that they’d return to old patterns on this third suicide mission, against the Reapers themselves.

The match started like all the rest, quips thrown back and forth with their blows. A rhythm developing that helped them both forget about the galaxy outside. All that mattered in those moments was the next strike. Stress could fall off in waves, Garrus’ duties under the Primarch and Shepard’s own with the Council disappeared for at least a few minutes.

Or… they had. Until Shepard pinned him.

Shepard’s face had gotten close to his own by virtue of the position. Even now, an hour later, Garrus couldn’t say who started it. But as fast as they’d been fighting, they were kissing. The human’s breath warm and damp on his face and his own hands suddenly trailing along the sides of Shepard’s waist and up the muscular curve of his back.

With an easy press of his hips, Garrus had flipped them. His tongue finding Shepard’s a little sloppily. But it hadn’t mattered. He felt the human’s length growing hard against his abdomen and damn the consequences Garrus had continued falling into him. His own seam was growing damp in anticipation.

It wasn’t until Garrus had let out a needy, subvocal heavy, moan that all motion stopped. Shepard had frozen solid beneath him, and just as fast as Garrus could move, he scrambled away and fell onto his ass. He’d watched Shepard’s chest rise and drop rapidly, his blue eyes go wide and, for the first time in years, Garrus didn’t recognize the emotion that sat within them.

Then, Shepard had run away.

A chill ran across Garrus’ spine. The training clothes he wore, made up of loose-fitting pants and a sleeveless shirt, weren’t nearly enough to be wandering around the ship in. Let alone with dried sweat between his plates. It had taken the turian a few minutes to go after Shepard. And now, standing in the space between his quarters and the elevator, he was damn sure Shepard hadn’t wanted to be followed.

Garrus ran his tongue along the back of his teeth. He could still taste Shepard on himself, or at least the memory of him was fresh enough that he could recall it. He... he wanted more. Not that he’d considered Shepard as a partner like that before today, he generally stuck to his own species. The only reason he even knew how to kiss was from a single asari encounter on his first shore leave, nearing on fifteen years ago.

His face fell into his palms, and he groaned. Garrus had no idea what he was doing.

And, of course, with the best comedic timing that the galaxy could offer, that was the moment that the door to Shepard’s quarters slid open. The lock changing from red to green with a happy little ping was his only warning. Garrus’ head snapped up at the sound, and he twisted so fast he nearly tripped in his haste.

“Shepard?” he stammered. “I uh… hm.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of the human’s mouth even though his eyes betrayed an entirely different emotion, one that Garrus still couldn’t name. He hated it. “EDI said you’ve been out here a while?” Shepard said after Garrus fell silent.

Garrus’ immediate reaction was to glare at the blue orb just barely visible behind Shepard. Before he could say anything, the AI winked out of existence. With nowhere to direct his annoyance, he released a sigh and brought one hand up to cup the spinal plating on the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I just… I wanted to talk. About earlier.”

Shepard’s arms came up to cross over his chest, almost defensively. “I figured.”

“If- if that wasn’t what you….” Garrus winced at his own words. It wasn’t coming out right. He needed more time to figure out what to say. He took a step back, toward the safety of the elevator. “We can just forget it happened. I should let you go.”

He was an idiot for coming up here. He knew that now, his feet couldn’t carry him fast enough to the elevator panel and, of course, the lift was on another floor. Despite it meaning he was staring at the wall, Garrus didn’t dare turn around. He could tell Shepard was still behind him and even see a faint shadow on the floor. He made enough of a fool of himself.

“Or,” Shepard said. Garrus watched his shadow as his arms uncrossed and he took a few steps closer. “We could… discuss it, maybe?”

Tilting his head, Garrus could see the Commander in the corner of his vision. The expression was still indecipherable, but it could have been something like uncertainty. Maybe hopeful? But that could have just been Garrus projecting on him.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Shepard continued. “It just sort of happened? I guess.”

Garrus dropped his chin, shaking his head. “Yeah. Just mission stress, I get it.” Finally, the elevator appeared, the doors parting for him to enter. He had one foot inside when he felt Shepard grab his wrist, spinning him around without taking his hand away. Shepard’s grip was firm but not unyielding, had he wanted to pull away it would have been easy.

“Just, hang on a minute,” Shepard said before adding an afterthought: “Please.”

Blinking a few times, Garrus dragged his eyes off their hands and found Shepard staring at him. His mouth went a little dry at the sight of him, replacing that uncertainty from a few moments ago was determination. That was an expression Garrus knew well on him, even with the dark bags beneath his eyes. “Yeah, alright.”

Shepard’s free hand stopped the door when it tried to close on them. A small tug had the turian following him back through the still-opened door to his quarters, down the steps and onto the couch. Garrus was familiar with the room, he’d been up a few times over their months together to both work and reminisce. Although, his gaze had never avoided the bed as it did now.

He wished Shepard hadn’t let go when they sat down. The ghost of his warmth remained on his bare wrist. Garrus had his back to the wall and his sight on the fish tank, while the Commander was on the other side of the ‘L’ with the display case behind him. Garrus waited for Shepard to start. He still didn’t know what to say, and the fact Shepard pulled him back made him hope his best friend at least had somewhere to start.

A few minutes ticked by, accompanied only by the hum of the drive core below them and the bubble of the fish tank. Even with the patience of a Hierarchy trained sniper, Garrus remained restless.

“I-” Shepard stopped, a lungful of air falling out his chest. “I meant it.”

Garrus’ heart skipped a beat. He- he couldn’t be serious. His eyes narrowed a little, and he brought his gaze back to Shepard, only to see him staring a hole in the floor, hands clenched together in his lap.

“Me too,” Garrus admitted quietly, his mandibles held in tight enough to his maxilla for it to actually hurt.

The tension fell out of Shepard’s hands, and he turned slowly to look up at Garrus, even seated he was taller by half-a-head. “Really?” he sounded both bewildered and somewhat elated.

“I’d never really thought about it before, but yeah. I meant it, Shepard.” The human fell back against the sofa, his hands rising to rub across his face like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you alright?”

His fingers spread and Garrus could see one eye through them. “More than alright, Garrus. Fuck. I thought I’d really screwed things up. Killed our friendship with one stupid lapse in judgment… I’ve just… I’ve wanted to do that for so damn long. And with the war. I just… I had to.”

Blinking once, slowly and deliberately, Garrus stared at the human and allowed his mandibles to slacken. The injured one fell lower than the other. “How- how long?”

Shepard’s hands fell away from his face, and a faint pink colour bloomed first at his throat and then along his cheeks. “Longer than I think I want to admit,” Shepard eventually answered.

Garrus cleared his throat, feeling a rise in his own temperature as he scratched at the scarred plating under his eye. “I uh, didn’t know you had a thing for men with scars, Shepard.”

A laugh cut through the air, taking some more of the tension away with it.

“Not really,” Shepard said, the smile remaining firmly on his face. “More like a thing for turian vigilantes with an attitude problem?”

At that, Garrus was able to join him. _ “Right,” _ he drew out the word and rolled his eyes as he’d learned to years ago. Working with humans had rubbed off on him long before he joined Shepard’s crew. “Anyone I should watch out for?”

He shook his head and slid a bit closer to the centre of the couch. “I’ve only got my eyes set on one turian. You’re safe.”

“Mhm. Good. Got enough to worry about with the Reapers breathing down our necks,” Garrus inched over as well, and he left his hand on the edge of the cushion. Shepard took it. 

“You remember that day you suggested we start sparring again? After the Collector ship?” He asked, and Garrus inclined his head a little.

“Yeah?”

“I was so damn close to asking if we could just skip straight to the tiebreaker,” he said, looking away and allowing a sheepish grin to spread across his face. “Almost said: we could test your reach and my flexibility.”

Garrus snorted, his free hand coming up to cover his mouth while the other squeezed Shepard’s. “Might’ve been easier. I’m uh… not good with subtle, Shepard.”

It was Shepard’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’re telling me! I had to kiss you full-on before you figured it out.”

“Well, maybe that was the right approach.” He tugged on Shepard’s hand, inviting him closer. “Maybe you could try it again?”

It didn’t take long for Shepard to respond to that suggestion, he stood up and approached Garrus on sure feet. A gentle hand pushed him into the couch, and the other moved to his cheek, tilting his face up, so they were looking one another in the eyes for a moment before Shepard moved in on him and brought their mouths together.

This kiss was no less firm than in the cargo bay, but it was slower. Garrus let Shepard guide them as his eyes fell shut. His hands moved to the human’s hips, gently tugging him in so that he’d sit astride his lap. There was no resistance, only warmth. The slide of Shepard’s tongue across his lower mouth plate made him open his mouth and just as before, their tongues melded together.

Somehow, their teamwork on the battlefield translated here. Ever the quick learner, he followed Shepard’s lead. They had always been able to read one another. Yet, -Garrus slowed- before today he didn’t even have an inkling that Shepard might’ve wanted more out of their relationship. He still didn’t even know what he wanted, if this was just fun or more serious.

He, apparently, paused a little too long, as Shepard pulled back enough to look at him. “Is this okay?” he asked almost with an air of hesitation surrounding the words.

“Yeah, I just… what is this Shepard? Like a one-time thing or-” he let the words hang without really knowing what the answer he wanted was. Garrus didn’t, however, let go of Shepard’s hips. He didn’t want him to go. He could live with it, whatever the response.

“I don’t want a one-time thing,” he said. “But if that’s all you’re aft-”

Garrus didn’t let him finish the sentence. It didn’t matter how it ended, he wanted the first option. The galaxy was so royally fucked-up that he didn’t want to wait or hesitate anymore. He might never have considered them before now, but Shepard offered, and Garrus was going to take all that he would give. He tried to keep his hands soft across Shepard’s impossibly smooth skin as he slid one hand beneath the hem of his shirt and the other wrapped around the back of his neck.

When they pulled apart for breath, Garrus was smiling. “There’s nobody in the galaxy I respect more than you. If we can figure out a way to make it work, then… yeah. Definitely.”

“Make it work?” Shepard’s brow raised, humour evident in his tone. “Are you propositioning me, Garrus?”

He shrugged with a single arm, as had become habitual since the rocket blast. “So what if I am?”

Shepard closed in on his mouth again, teasing him with a brief kiss and whispering: “I think I’m okay with that.” His hand trailed down Garrus’ chest over his shirt, a single finger making contact along the centre of his plates. Garrus shuddered beneath him. “If you are?”

Garrus needed to swallow again to clear his throat. “I- I’ll do some...uh... research, and figure out how to... you know.” He felt the warmth from earlier returning to his throat. “Okay, that sounded bad.”

When he found Shepard’s face, the man was grinning at him. “How about I just teach you?”

“Now?” Despite flinching back slightly, he gripped Shepard’s hips a little tighter, enough that he could feel his skin dimple beneath his talons, reminding him how utterly alien Shepard was to him. “You’ve been with a turian before?”

“Not in a while,” Shepard replied while continuing to trace the centre of Garrus’ keel with his fingertips. A spark rested in his eyes when they locked gazes once again. “But I’ve er… dabbled, let’s say. You?”

“A male, yes. A human, no.”

Shepard nodded, backing off after placing a brief kiss against his unscarred mandible. “How about this, you grab a shower. I’ll throw on some music, set the mood a little, and we’ll see where the night take us? No pressure.”

He could have laughed, no pressure, right. Instead, Garrus let go and followed the Commander to his feet. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

Before he could even start to head for the stairs, Shepard stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “There’s a perfectly good shower up here if you want? EDI should be able to mess with the heat controls a little easier than the communal showers. Get it hot enough.”

With a raised brow plate and a longing look toward the closed door that held Shepard’s private washroom, he was somewhat undecided. “I don’t want to impose….”

“Garrus, you’re not imposing. I offered.” 

He hadn’t realized how much taller he was than Shepard before now. Standing a half-metre apart, Garrus had to look down to meet his eyes. His hesitation caused Shepard to speak up again, his mouth turning down at the corners.

“If you’re not comfortable with this, it’s okay. I’m not trying to pressure you.”

“No,” Garrus stepped in before he could finish, taking hold of his hand. “You don’t ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. Nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable.”

Shepard smiled, squeezing his talons before letting go. “I’ll be here.”

Garrus felt the slight knot in his throat dissipate, and he let his shoulder brush against Shepard’s on his way up the short staircase to the washroom. As he stepped inside, he looked back to see Shepard watching him leave. He flicked his mandible as the door closed between them and he began his short reprieve.

The bathroom looked about as he’d expected it to. On the left was a sink with a mirror behind it, at the bottom of which there was a smudge of something white and frothy he didn’t recognize and assumed to be some sort of human hygiene product. There was a single toilet across from it, just like the ones on the crew deck. A linen closet was set into the back wall, along with a laundry machine. On the right, a single shower stall called his name. His taloned feet clacked against the metal floor as he headed toward it, pulling off his shirt as he went.

Reaching for the controls, Garrus tapped the heat up to its highest setting. Steam began billowing out within a few seconds, and as he reached beneath the spray, he found that Shepard was right. EDI had adjusted the temperature up for him, well beyond where the showers on the crew deck could be set.

Stripping off his pants and leaving them in a pile to be dealt with later, he stepped underneath the spray and groaned almost obscenely as the heated water hit his plates. Garrus could feel his muscles loosening after just a few seconds. Shepard had been holding out on him. 

Resting both his hands against the wall, he let the water soak him to the bone. Reaching out somewhat blindly, he found a bottle of what he assumed was soap. Without his visor on, and being too lazy at the moment to pull up his omnitool, he couldn’t read the human language. When he opened it, the smell was enough for him to determine he was right. It smelled like Shepard.

Not in all his years aboard the  _ Normandy _ had he considered Shepard as a partner. But now, with the idea in his mind, Garrus couldn’t push it out. Excitement kept his mandibles spread in a smile and his movements a little quick as he washed away the remnants of the sparring match. 

A few brief minutes later, he was clean enough and had found a towel to dry off. It wasn’t like the small ones on the crew deck. Instead, the navy fabric was plush and large enough to reach around his cowl. Garrus looked at his dirty pile of clothes, his mandible pulling into an annoyed grouse. 

Fighting alongside Shepard was not what anyone would consider safe. The man regularly threw himself at fortresses built upon bad odds and Garrus had always gone in with him. Why should this be any different? Taking a page from Shepard's book, Garrus decided that, for once, he would throw caution to the wind and approach his invitation with the same brazen mentality that the human always exuded in battle. Instead of dressing, he just wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped back into Shepard's quarters with his head held high, fringe proudly on display.

Only to stop when he took in the room around him. It was noticeably warmer than earlier, and the lights had been dimmed down to a more turian-friendly level. The Commander was standing by the couch, he’d changed into lighter sleeping pants and a sleeveless black shirt versus the fatigues he'd been wearing when Garrus arrived at the loft. Two bottles and glasses were set out on the table in front of him.

“Relaxed?” Shepard asked, grinning. His eyes were on Garrus, taking in his form with a long look from claws to fringe.

“Yeah,” Garrus said, descending from the upper floor to stand next to him. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

Shepard reached up, sliding his hand along the curve of Garrus’ cowl. It damn near made Garrus shiver with anticipation, he settled instead for a shaky breath as Shepard pulled him down for a kiss. “Have I?”

Garrus could only hum in agreement. The humans’ lips were soft against his mouth, unlike anything he’d felt before. Shepard was focused and gentle, guiding and teaching him until they needed to part to breathe. Garrus felt remiss, he wanted more and followed Shepard as he pulled away, making the man smile. 

“Slow down, Garrus. Tonight at least, we have lots of time.”

He huffed a small laugh. “Yeah. You’re right.” He looked down at the table, noting the bottles were from the bar on the crew deck. “Drink first?”

“If you want one, yeah.” Shepard took a seat back on the couch, where Garrus had sat earlier, and Garrus took the other side of the ‘L’ with his back to the display case. This time, they sat close enough for their knees to touch at the intersection. “Gives us a chance to talk.”

Garrus watched Shepard pour them each a glass and took a small sip of his own after tapping it against Shepard’s, as had become habit after working with humans for so long. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

A silence stretched between them. The promise of words faded away into a comfortable silence. Each soldier took a few swallows from their glass before Garrus tried to break the silence. “If you were a turian, I’d be complimenting your waist or your fringe. So... your, uh, hair looks good. And your waist is... very supportive.”

Shepard had been about to tip his glass up to take a sip but stopped. His shoulders shook with a small laugh, and Garrus could see the corners of his mouth tipping upward.

Garrus’ earlier bravado left him as quickly as it had found him. He tried to backtrack. “Hopefully that’s not offensive in human culture.” He put his own glass down on the table, taking a moment to hold the back of his neck. “Crap. I knew I should have watched the vids.”

“Calm down, Garrus. You’re worrying too much,” Shepard put his drink down as well and placed a reassuring hand on his knee. 

“I just... I’ve seen so many things go wrong, Shepard.” Now that he’d begun to speak, the words overflowed. His nerves got the better of him. “My work at C-Sec, what happened with Sidonis. Now the Reapers...” he winced and looked away. “I want something to go right. Just once. Just-”

Garrus’ words were cut off as Shepard stood up and slid his hand along the length of his jaw, pulling his face toward his own. Looking him right in the eye, Shepard leaned into him and let their foreheads touch. The gesture took the breath from Garrus’ lungs. Kissing was one thing, a learned intimacy, but this was turian. He let his eyes fall shut and pressed his crest into Shepard’s warmth. 

“You talk too much,” Shepard told him without letting go.

He huffed. “Heard that a couple times before.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” As the tension from Garrus’ perceived screw up faded away, Shepard pulled back enough to grab his glass, and he sat down beside him. “It’s going to go right, Garrus. We always figure it out.”

“How about you take point?” Garrus suggested, making Shepard chuckle. 

“Sure,” he said, taking another sip before settling his drink down on the table and reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it off, over his head. “How about we start by evening the playing field?”

Garrus assumed he was referencing his mostly unclothed state. “I’ve seen your ass before, Shepard. The SR-1 wasn’t so private.”

“Ah, but never in this setting.”

His head tilted to the side as he considered it. It was true, tracing the man’s well-defined chest held a different light now than it had before. In place of checking for injuries or only catching a passing glance at the man, Garrus could focus on the paleness of his skin, the muscle definition and his scars. Curiosity got the better of him, reaching out a talon he traced the line of Shepard’s collar and then down to the first orangey-coloured scar. “Do they hurt?”

Garrus watched Shepard’s throat bob as he swallowed. “Not anymore.”

“Mhm,” Garrus intoned as he followed the path of the scar down to the man’s ribs, gently following the pathway inward and along his obliques. “I don’t know what feels good to you.”

“That does, just don’t be lighter than that otherwise, it’ll tickle.”

Garrus’ eyes flicked up to Shepard’s, skeptically he asked: “It’ll what?”

“Nevermind,” Shepard answered quickly, a light red flush appearing for a moment on his cheeks as he guided Garrus’ hand away and around to his back. Garrus filed that word away to look up later on, letting Shepard maneuver him for the moment instead. “Firm hands or gentle scratching along my back feels good. An accident is no big deal and sort of expected, but I’m not really looking to bleed at all. Some humans like it, me? I think I do enough of it in the field.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Garrus said as he traced along Shepard’s spine, amazed he could feel the individual bones in his vertebrae. Turians appeared to be built more resiliently, their delicate parts hidden beneath plates.

“Not a deal breaker, I hope?” Shepard asked as he pushed into Garrus’ hand, clearly enjoying the attention. 

Garrus shook his head. “Not at all. Most turians don’t like bloodsport regularly, if at all. Are there any ‘deal breakers’ for you?”

“I’m-” Shepard stopped, his teeth coming together in a small snapping motion. Garrus dropped his hand to the man’s hip, giving him the space to find his words. “Nothing with my neck, biting or choking. It’s-” he looked away, up to the centre of the ceiling and as Garrus followed his gaze he found the view-port covered. 

After a moment, Garrus gently reached for Shepard's face with his free hand to pull the man away from his suffocating memories. Slowly, so that Shepard had time to pull away if he wanted to, he brought his mouth down against his lips in a chaste kiss before he returned his crest to his forehead.

Shepard’s hand rose to cover his own, and he nuzzled in. “Thanks, G.”

“Anytime,” he moved back, his mandible flicking into a grin. “So, where were we?” The hand on Shepard’s hip resumed tracing over the muscles on Shepard’s back. The Commander’s hands began to massage along Garrus’ waist, allowing him to join in the pleasure. “Right. Mhm.”

The brief fog seemed to lift as Shepard pushed himself off the couch and into his lap, one knee on either side of Garrus’ thighs. Their mouths found one another’s again and this time, as they kissed, Garrus was beginning to get less sloppy under Shepard’s careful tutelage. 

“We were here,” Shepard mumbled. 

Garrus could feel his plates begin to part at the feeling of Shepard entirely against him, especially so when the human ground his hips into his lap. He groaned a little, pushing up in retaliation. One of Shepard’s hands found its way behind his neck, and he teased the sensitive plates and hide he saw there. That action alone betrayed his experience with turians was broader than he admitted, that was rather special and required trust between partners. 

He and Shepard had been partners long enough that he already trusted the man implicitly, with his life even. However unexpected it was, giving him his body was natural.

Just as he felt the edge of Shepard’s erection through his pants, the man pulled away. Sitting in his lap and smiling, he asked: “Do you trust me?”

“Since when can humans read thoughts?” Garrus joked, and Shepard raised a brow, not quite getting it. Garrus shook his head, brushing it off. “Of course I trust you, Shepard.”

“Good, because this..." Shepard's words trailed off as he leaned down to mouth gently at Garrus' throat. "You're going to enjoy.”

Garrus looked down at the other man skeptically. But he let him continue kissing a line down his throat and then down his chest. When Shepard reached his waist, he began to untie the knot in the side of the towel and looked up seeking approval to continue. Garrus nodded and caressed along Shepard’s shoulders to encourage him on. He sort of guessed where this was going, but wasn’t entirely convinced until he watched him trace the line of his seam with his tongue.

Immediately, his eyes slammed shut, and his hips bucked into Shepard’s face, provoking a laugh out of the Commander. “Easy, Garrus. Haven’t even started yet. Just think about calibrations, slow yourself down a little.”

“Right,” Garrus took a deep breath. “Because I’m in a great position to optimize firing algorithms right now.”

Again, Shepard chuckled, but he started anew after another minute. Sliding his tongue along Garrus’ sheath and working to tease him out. The experience wasn’t unlike that of sex with other turians, parting plates was usually done with fingers or a talented tongue, but this moment held anticipation for what could happen next. Turians didn’t do fellatio. 

As the tip of his member began to peek out, Shepard was on him. His soft mouth wrapping around it and causing Garrus to inhale sharply. He dropped his head back against the display case and squeezed Shepard’s shoulders. His mandibles fell loose as the human took more and more of him in.

Soon there was enough exposed that Shepard could bob up and down his length, pulling off to breathe as he needed. Garrus hadn’t opened his eyes as of yet, he couldn’t. Afraid he’d come if he saw the erotic image of Shepard for real instead of just inside his mind.

While his mouth worked the first ten centimetres or so, Shepard demonstrated his experience by caressing the rest of him simultaneously. His free hand danced across Garrus’ hips and waist. Pulling deep rumbling moans from his chest, like the groan he’d made in the cargo hold earlier when they’d first been kissing. 

“Damn…” Garrus panted into the room, trying as best he could to keep his hips still. 

“That’s it, Garrus,” Shepard mumbled before taking him in farther this time. 

Garrus could feel his member touch the back of the human’s throat, it felt different than the rest of his mouth more spongy than just soft. Shepard sputtered a bit and pulled back, catching a breath before trying a second time. Both his hands held Garrus’ hips still now, giving the human all the control. Garrus had to let go of his head and instead twisted his hands in the towel underneath him to keep from pushing Shepard beyond his limit.

Opening his eyes, Garrus looked down to see Shepard intently focused on taking him deeper. This time, when he coughed, the Commander backed off just a little and held Garrus there for a few moments as he glanced up to see he was being watched. Very deliberately, Shepard swallowed, making Garrus very nearly come right then and there. 

A wet pop accompanied Shepard pulling off. Both men were panting. Shepard for breath and Garrus from the exertion. Shepard’s hand wrapped around him and teased his length, keeping Garrus hard and wanting for more.

“Good?” he asked.

Rolling his eyes, Garrus mumbled: “Tease.”

“Yeah, I am.” Shepard chuckled and stood up, his own erection blatantly obvious through his thin pants. He could see the outline, and he grabbed Shepard around the backs of his legs, pulling him in to lick across it through the material, making the Commander moan. “What do you say we take this to the bed?”

Garrus followed him up, caressing him all over as they made their way across the room. Standing behind Shepard, he took a moment to do his own teasing. With his chest flush against his back, Garrus was able to trace along his hips and thighs and kiss along the line of the man’s shoulder. 

“Any position you prefer?” Shepard asked around a happy sounding note as he wrapped his fingers around the back of Garrus’ neck again.

That question surprised him a little, and he stopped his teasing for the moment, looking at Shepard sidelong. “I sort of assumed you were going to top, Shepard.”

“Do you want to?” he said, turning in Garrus’ grasp. “Bottom is my preference, but if that’s not what you’re into….”

He shook his head, placing a brief kiss against Shepard’s lips. “You’ll just have to show me. I’ve never considered cross-species intercourse. And damn, saying it that way doesn’t help. Now I feel dirty and clinical.”

It was enough to break the moment of tension, he had Shepard laughing. Just as quick as Garrus pulled his pants away, Shepard was kissing him again. Long and slow. He could almost feel himself becoming painfully hard and brushing his length across Shepard’s was not helping matters. 

“As far as I understand it, humans need a little more prep,” Shepard explained as he walked them over to the nightstand. Garrus sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Shepard pulled out a bottle and a phallic looking object. It was decently long and tapered. “And uh, no offence but your talons are not going in my ass.”

“Fine by me,” Garrus snorted, looking down at his hands. Each finger capped by a decently sharp talon. They’d be fine on Shepard’s shoulders but even dulled he didn’t think he’d trust them inside. 

“I’m clean,” he said joining Garrus on the bed before moving to the centre of it and pulling Garrus in behind him. “But it’s been a while for me.”

“A while?” Garrus asked, adjusting himself to get a little more comfortable. His knees came up on either side of Shepard, his feet planted into the mattress and one hand resting in the blankets behind him to keep them both stable. Shepard sat in front of him, his back braced against Garrus’ chest.

“Humans get tight,” Shepard explained after putting some of the liquid from the bottle onto the toy. Touching it, Garrus figured it out soon enough that it was a lubricant. “Sorta like plates being closed, the muscles need time to loosen.”

Garrus looked down at Shepard. “You didn’t answer my question,” he rumbled. 

He felt the human shiver beneath him. Why he did, Garrus couldn’t say.

“A long time,” Shepard deflected once he’d gotten a hold of himself. He offered the toy to Garrus, and he took it. “So you just need to go slow, I’ll talk you through it.”

The questioning rumble didn’t stop, even as Garrus did as asked and began teasing the Commander’s entrance with the tip of the toy. His voice became as soothing as he could make it, the vibrations carrying from his chest through to Shepard’s back. As it slipped inside, he felt Shepard stiffen for a moment before relaxing. 

He leaned in, kissing him again, and Shepard’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck to keep him there. Against his lips, Garrus mumbled: “Is this your first time since Earth?”

“Yeah,” Shepard replied. Breathing a little hard against Garrus’ mouth. “Longer than that.”

“Collector base?” Garrus prompted. The vibrations of his voice seemed to be helping, so he kept up his subvocal rumble. He could see the tiny hairs on Shepard’s arms rise.

Shepard’s breath hitched: “Lon-ger.”

Soon the Commander’s hips were rolling with the motion of Garrus’ hand as he worked the toy in and out of him. For his part, Garrus was fascinated by all the small movements that Shepard made, he could feel the softness of his skin against him and wanted more of it. He would wait as long as Shepard needed, but he was excited for the moment Shepard told him he was ready. 

“Garrus rested his chin on the human’s shoulder and purred soothingly into his ear. He kept his ministrations up as he gently asked: "Shepard...was it before Alchera?"

He swallowed audibly, taking a moment to allow his hips to rise and fall once more under Garrus’ hand before he came out with a reply. "Yeah. It was the after party on the Citadel." 

Without knowing quite what to say, Garrus held his silence for a moment. Though he didn’t stop moving, his hand slowed, and it made Shepard tense against him. 

“That’s… uhm… shit,” Shepard swore and his arms wrapped around his middle. “I shouldn’t have said that. Just forget it. Nevermind.”

“It’s fine,” Garrus said as he nuzzled into the soft hair on the man’s head, attempting to get him to open back up. “I’m just surprised.”

The human huffed a self-deprecating laugh and looked away. “Well, now you know.”

Garrus removed the toy, and before his partner could move away, he wrapped his arms around his waist. Enclosing him in his warm arms and pressing his nose into his shoulder. “Shepard, you’re about the only friend I’ve got left in this screwed-up galaxy. I’m not going to pretend I’ve got a fetish for humans... but this isn’t about that.” It was his turn to swallow, the final words his confession. “This is about us.”

He felt Shepard’s hands grab onto his arms, embracing him the best he could in their current position. After a few seconds, it wasn’t enough, and the Commander turned around to press his forehead against Garrus’ crest. The weight of Garrus’ own confession melted away first with that intimacy and then in a slide of tongues.

Within a couple minutes, Shepard had him on his back. Garrus’ breath hitched as their lengths rubbed together between them and Shepard used it as an excuse to deepen their kiss. Garrus’ hands caressed Shepard’s back, gently massaging into the tight spots and tracing faint lines into his skin. Shepard quietly moaned into his mouth and kneaded his waist.

“I want you,” Shepard whispered huskily against his mouth.

Garrus twitched at the genuine need within Shepard’s tone, but something about the desperation gave him pause. “You sure you don’t want something a little closer to home?”

He pulled back to sit astride Garrus’ hips. A lopsided grin settled over his features. “I don't want something closer to home,” Shepard said. “I want you. I want someone I can trust.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Garrus felt warmth come to his throat and he knew he was blushing something terrible. He coughed, trying to give himself a minute to think of something better to say in return. 

Shepard, however, took pity on him. Pulling him out of his head with a smooth stroke from base to tip and bringing his length back to full attention while grinding against him. “Is this position okay?” he asked, reaching above Garrus’ head to pull a pillow closer and settle it under his fringe. 

“Yeah,” he replied, his subvocals pitching with want. “This’ll work. Just tell me what you need.” Garrus’ palms settled onto Shepard’s thighs, and he squeezed gently in anticipation.

“Easier like this, at least to start.” Shepard grabbed the lube from earlier and slathered more along Garrus’ member, slickening it in addition to his natural lubricant. Garrus forced himself to watch despite the desire to throw his crest back and moan. The image was one he wanted to be burned into his mind.

Soon, Shepard’s breaths slowed. They were long and intentional like when he held a sniper rifle to his eye on the practice range. He tossed the bottle away and wiped his hand on the sheets. Rising above Garrus’ cock, Shepard slowly began to lower himself down, his body somehow accepting the sizable length with little difficulty. 

Garrus felt a tightness develop in the pit of his stomach as he was enveloped. Shepard’s tight heat grabbed him as no turian had before. The tight ring of muscle they’d worked together to loosen was strange yet marvellous, and it gave way to a soft, snug channel. By the time Shepard was halfway down, Garrus’ eyes had fallen closed, and he groaned. His hands grasped the human’s legs harder as he fought to keep himself stable.

It was a small chuckle that made Garrus open one eye. Shepard was grinning down at him. “Too much?” His mandible flicked out and his subvocals buzzed in mild annoyance, which only made the human laugh harder. “That’s not an answer.”

“Shepard-” he drew out the man’s name, his subvocals already half ruined. 

Above him, Shepard shivered. Tiny bumps had begun to appear on his skin, and he grasped tightly against Garrus’ keel as he said: “Do that again.”

His brow-plate rose curiously. “What?” he asked, keeping his voice even for a moment before allowing a rumble to accompany the next word. “This?” 

Again, Shepard shivered. His blunt nails scratched at Garrus’ chest. “Yep,” he said, his own voice becoming tight as he dropped his forehead down to Garrus’ crest. “I like that.”

Garrus nuzzled into Shepard and continued rumbling for him as he started to rock his hips gently, just beginning to work his partner up. The human took the hint and resumed his slow slide downward after that, not ending until Garrus could feel Shepard’s ass against his seam. “Damn.”

“Ye-yeah... nhg...” the Commander shuddered and made a half-thrust before whispering his name. Light perspiration had broken out along his brow, slickening his skin in the dull blue light from the fish tank.

“Right here, Shepard,” Garrus soothed, running his hands along the man’s back until the tension fell out of him and they could begin moving.

Watching Shepard move was just as impressive as when they were in battle. Together they found a rhythm. It was slow at first, yet grew as they learned one another in this way. Shepard taught Garrus where to hold him, and in return, Garrus showed him what speed was right.

By the time Shepard’s thrusts began to get sloppy, Garrus was more than ready to take over. He rolled them like earlier in the cargo bay, taking charge of the angle and power. Shepard’s strong legs wrapped around his waist and squeezed, making his voice deepen an octave.

A litany of ‘don’t stop’ became Shepard’s only words. His face pressed into Garrus’ neck, and his hands clung to his cowl. And so Garrus kept on, pushing himself to the brink of orgasm before he felt Shepard come apart between them. A few short strokes later and Garrus let himself go.

He was only cognizant enough to keep half his weight in his elbows, and it wasn’t until Shepard squirmed a little beneath him, then Garrus carefully pulled out and dropped onto his side. Shepard rolled with him. His legs remained wrapped around Garrus’ waist, enticingly. And when the human squeezed, he groaned. “No fair.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Shepard said as he traced his mandible with a gentle hand, pulling him into another kiss. By now, Garrus was getting the hang of this kissing thing, and Shepard moaned.

A few seconds later, when they needed to break for air, Garrus bumped his crest against Shepard’s forehead again. That motion was becoming familiar too.

“So…” Garrus rumbled while running the edge of his talons along Shepard’s arm. “What now?”

“You could stay the night?” Shepard suggested, sounding hopeful. 

Garrus’ mandible flicked out in a smile. “I’d like that.”

\---

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**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
